


don't play with me

by reonjeons



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Character Study, Cute, Cute Confessions, Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Park Jisung (NCT) is Whipped, icb thats a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24522964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reonjeons/pseuds/reonjeons
Summary: Jisung has learned, and now he won't let Na Jaemin play with his heart like this. Even if this Na Jaemin has the most beautiful, blinding, most adorable, prettiest, world-stopping smile—
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Park Jisung
Comments: 12
Kudos: 111





	don't play with me

**Author's Note:**

> ok first of all,,, this is an attempt in writing a fic for another ship other than noren :>  
> JAESUNG IS CUTE DONT ARGUE W ME

Na Jaemin is a consequence.

He’s handsome and pretty at the same time, he has the brightest smile, and his lips curve perfectly. His skin glows in the summer, but still manages to still be soft in winter. He has an everlasting gaze, as warm as his heart. He’s a measly two centimeters shorter than Jisung despite being older, but his shoulders are broader, perfectly fitting the younger but taller male right into his arms when they hug. He clings onto Jisung’s arm, and he  _ pouts  _ because he wants a plushie from the claw machine. His bed is softer, warmer, than Jisung’s in the upper bunk, and his blankets smell better because they smell like him. Jaemin has big doe eyes in contrast to Jisung’s small ones, his laugh is loud and clear and melodious, and he has the prettiest eyelashes— _ god, _ those eyelashes. When Jisung watches his hyung’s eyes flutter close, those long and thick and perfectly curved eyelashes just manage to kiss his cheeks.

So really, Jaemin is such a huge, gigantic, fat consequence in Jisung’s life that he’s annoyed. So annoyed because how can a Na Jaemin just exist so perfectly? What’s more irksome is that Park Jisung can never translate all of this pent up attraction in words.

What’s more,  _ more,  _ irksome is that Jaemin, the Archangel incarnate himself, has no single clue that Jisung is about to rip all of his hair off because he knows that Jaemin  _ knows _ .

Na Jaemin knows Jisung gets flustered with his every touch, or even with a single look directed at him. Jaemin knows that Jisung  _ accidentally  _ sleeping and camping on his bed is not-so accidental after all. Jaemin knows that Jisung purposely whines about being hungry when he’s around just so they could spend time alone in the kitchen. Jaemin knows that the way Jisung gets away from under his intense staring is because of embarrassment rather than rejection. Jaemin knows that Jisung will let him kill him in every PUBG game and he won’t complain. Jaemin knows, but he’d always dismiss it as brotherly affection.

Well, it’s not like Jisung wants to confess  _ explicitly _ either. But this blatant rejection is kind of hurting him that he just wants Jaemin to  _ know _ , maybe that way he’d stop hurting. 

Here’s the thing: their two-year age gap. Or so, Jisung thinks.

“It’s just two years though,” Jisung had said out loud one night, when he spends too much time washing up after a schedule. Saying it out loud sounded like the age gap isn’t that much of a big deal. Actually—when he really, really thinks about it—it really isn’t much of a big deal. The real deal though (Jisung thinks), is that Jisung is  _ barely _ —as in, a few months barely—an adult. Was nineteen a little too young for a twenty-one year-old? Was Jaemin’s type someone older than him?

That night was a night full of intense thinking in Jisung's part. 

And he gets it, really. He’s NCT’s  _ maknae. _ Youngest. Baby of the babies. Jisung had been so used to the hyungs babying him more than necessary to the point of his discomfort—the teasing, the cooing, and the way they willingly spoil him despite being a brat—but Jaemin…

God, Jaemin is such a consequence.

“Jisungie!” Jaemin had whined in his ear just after their week-long break ends, “Our cutie, Jisungie. Did you eat well without me? Those bags under your eyes look terrible—were you playing games all night again? You know you shouldn’t sacrifice sleep for those! This kid, really—did you miss hyung?”

_ Kid _ , Jisung had scoffed. He had been sulky all day, and even the warm cuddling from Jaemin felt like mockery rather than comfort.

Jaemin treats him like a kid. Even if Jisung’s doesn’t want to be treated that way. Not by Jaemin. How much would it cost for Jaemin to see him as something more?

Jaemin pats his head when he finishes his meal, always the one to remind him to put on a jacket before going out because the breeze would be chilly. He cooks for him in the middle of the night and watches him swallow the food down before he tucks Jisung in in his own bed at the top bunk. He holds Jisung’s hand so that he doesn’t get lost in the airport, he lends Jisung his sweatshirts and his snapbacks. Despite complaining, he’d still let Jisung eat snacks on his bed. He listens to Jisung’s worries, even gives him useful advice. He feeds Jisung snacks at the waiting room, he pinches his cheeks and coo, he’s kissed Jisung a lot already.

He does all those along with the words, “Our baby brother is such a cutie.”

Did he just got bro-zoned? Yes, plenty of times.

Jisung likes to think a lot. Sometimes, like now, he thinks about the what ifs. What if Jaemin squeezes his hand every time he finishes his meal instead of a pat in the head? What if he lets Jisung wrap his lanky arms around his waist from behind when he cooks for him?  _ Gasp _ , what if Jaemin kissed him, real and straight on the lips?

Currently, Jisung drops his phone to his face with a very much audible groan. He abandons his fake demeanor of meaning to scroll through his old selfies to choose one to post on SNS, and then rubs his eyes in exasperation. 

Thinking is tiring, especially when it’s Na Jaemin he’s thinking about.

Said Na Jaemin is still out in the living room playing whatever game it is with Jeno and Chenle. It’s only nine in the evening and on free days, Chenle leaves the dorm at 10, so they make the best out of it. He’d been bored after going shopping earlier that day, and so he chose to retreat to their room and recharge alone. 

Jisung sighs deeply as he stares right into the ceiling of their room and thinks more. 

He had come into terms with his feelings just a couple of years ago (hard times, hard times) right when Jaemin does a comeback after his year-long hiatus. Jisung had been so excited, and so happy, that he began to see the older in a new light. Admitting to his feelings towards Jaemin felt like victory to Jisung. Revealing a new part of you to yourself felt refreshing. 

Though, admitting it to himself also came with watching too much of Jaemin more than he should. He had noticed every gesture, every little habit. He began to blush furiously when Jaemin darted out his tongue to wet his lips out of habit because they tend to dry too much. He began to feel the tingling and burning sensation that trails after Jaemin’s touch (which happened  _ a lot _ , really). His heart goes ridiculously fast when Jaemin mentions his name. He feels proud whenever he makes Jaemin laugh and smile. 

It had been hard, but it just became harder.

Jisung doesn’t know when Jaemin started to notice, but he definitely knew Jaemin  _ did  _ notice all of the underlying feelings that comes with every interaction he had with Jaemin. At first, he didn’t bother. Jaemin was naturally affectionate, even to their other members. Jisung knows that the older boy liked giving attention and taking care of anyone else. But after a while, when it comes to Jisung, it suddenly feels like Jaemin is teasing him. Does he do that to everyone else as well? 

Suddenly, the door to their shared room opens with a small squeak. They were right when they said thinking about someone will only summon them.

The physical manifestation of his thoughts enters the room naturally—it is  _ their  _ shared room after all. Jaemin is dressed comfortably, ready to turn into bed and rest as if they have an early schedule tomorrow, which they don’t. Jisung freezes when the older looks up to him with a small smile on his lips. 

If Jisung had more strength he would’ve grabbed his blanket and hid under it.

“Were you going to sleep?”

Snapping out of his trance, Jisung blinks once before he hastily rips off the covers of his bed and snuggles deep under it. Jaemin watched him, interpreted it as a yes, and lightly chuckled. With that, he grabs his phone from its charging port and turns back to head outside again. 

Jisung glares at the back of his head.

■■■■■■

Among the days, Jisung had made a decision. He was not going to let Jaemin play him like this. He will take every means to not let his heart be dribbled pathetically like a basketball, used only to shoot points to earn bragging rights and a trophy (that made Jaemin sound like an asshole, but the point is, Jisung is never going to get played. Not even by Na Jaemin).

Today, they’re spending the whole day at their practice room to go over routines and performances. Jisung is determined to avoid any interaction that toes out of the line with his Jaemin hyung. He’s not entirely ignoring him, anyway, that would just make him obvious. Jisung just does as much as he can to retrieve a water bottle from the snack table before Jaemin could offer his, brought a towel from home to wipe his sweat off before Jaemin does it for him, dodges his arm when he reaches out to pinch his cheeks. Really, he’s just avoiding the attempts from Jaemin to even meet his eyes.

But Jaemin can never slip out of his own habit of playing with Jisung’s heart. 

When they take a break for lunch, Jaemin automatically sits beside Jisung in their little circle, delivering food all set out in the middle. Jisung feels this without even looking up, so he scoots and presses himself to Renjun’s side. Jaemin managed to ruffle his hair anyway. The younger boy could only hope the blush in his neck isn’t that visible. 

They all gave thanks for the food, and then began to dig in. Jisung is in the middle of chewing his second piece of seasoned chicken when Jaemin pulls the tab from a soda can with a sharp hiss from the fizzle bubbles before he slides it to Jisung’s side. The latter pretends not to see. 

Jisung swallows. He grabs another can and hands it to Renjun, “Hyung, please open it for me.” He could see Jaemin watching them from his peripheral view.

Renjun tuts, “You know you can do that yourself.”

But Jisung insists, even pushed himself to do a small pout, “Please?” He smiles brightly after Renjun takes the can with that exaggerated eye roll of his, and opens the tab for him.

Beside him, Jaemin had been frowning, “I opened you one, though.”

Jisung feigned his shock, “Oh? I didn’t notice.”

“Then, I’ll take it,” Chenle pipes up and grabs the soda Jaemin had opened for Jisung, “thanks, Jaemin hyung.”

Jaemin pouted, sending his eyebrows to draw in together. “Drink carefully, Chenle. You don’t want to get bloated after.” There’s a slight clawing of guilt in Jisung’s gut, but he inwardly smiles to himself anyway.  _ Na Jaemin, this is only one part of my revenge. _

The next part comes when they’re done for the day, and they’ve already clocked out. Jisung adjusts the cap over his head and bends down to pick up his backpack from where it’s discarded on the floor. He pats the pockets in search for his phone, and when he deems it safe and stored in his backpack, he matches his pace with Jeno on the way out. 

Only then Jaemin stops him by his shoulder and with a call of his name. Jisung flinched when he’s surprised by the sudden contact. Despite being uncomfortable, Jisung lets himself face the older. 

He faced Jaemin who was grinning, whose eyes sparkled, whose cheeks were fluffed up and crinkled in an angelic smile, whose lips are red and miraculously hydrated and plump, whose nose is perfectly shaped and lined, who also holds out Jisung’s jacket in a way the younger could just slip his arms into the sleeves to wear it. Jisung internally panics for a second there, but thank god he was still able to snap out of it. 

Even though Jaemin speaks, in a very soft tone, voice husky but also dripping honey, “You forgot to wear your jacket again. It’s going to be cold outside.”

The tingles in his body can never chill. 

Normally, Jisung would shyly return his smile and let his Jaemin hyung slip the jacket over his body, but now, Jisung was a changed boy. He had the will and determination to protect and guard his heart. So he just nods and bunches up the jacket in his hands instead. Then he wears it on himself, rather than making Jaemin do the deed. 

The older boy had watched with one strong eyebrow shooting up. But Jisung paid no mind, and went on to follow the others towards their van with long strides. The blush in his face was uncontrollable at this point, he had to escape fast. Jisung would admit that he’ll never be good at avoiding Jaemin’s loving gestures, but he would try. 

Jaemin ends up sitting beside him in the van, anyways.

“Are you avoiding me?” Jaemin had accused him once they arrived in their room, now getting ready to wash up for the night.

Jisung feels like there’s a hundred bees swarming over his body, and that he needs to stay still or else he’d get stung. Day one of his mission and he’d already been caught by the enemy. Was he that obvious?  _ Yes, you are, dumbass _ , the voice inside him replies back. But no, being caught once won’t stop him from going further. Maybe avoidance didn’t work, but Jisung still has many ways in stock, more tricks up his sleeves (he didn’t). 

So he stiffly removes his jacket and slings it to a chair coolly, unbothered-ly, or so he thought it appeared to be, “Of course not, hyung. Do I have to avoid you?”

It sounded faker than it should sound. Jisung internally winces.

“That’s a lie.” 

Jisung climbs up the ladder to his bunk, “I’m not. I’m literally talking to you, hyung.”

“Why are you not sitting on my bed?” Jaemin raises an eyebrow. Jisung splutters.

“Why would I?” Then he mutters to himself, “You don’t like it, anyway.”

Jisung takes a chance to glance down at Jaemin who went silent. The lack of response makes Jisung realize that Jaemin had probably heard him well, and the flesh of his face flushes red down to his neck. Jaemin stood there with a smug face, and Jisung just wanted to wipe that off (with a kiss maybe?—but this was not a time to daydream). It made him handsome, how dare he look handsome while attempting to work Jisung up? It’s even more aggravating because it’s definitely  _ working _ . 

But Jisung doesn’t waver. He could not let his heart waver like all those times he let himself. Even if Jaemin looked—admittedly—attractive with his gaze, even if Jisung feels the blush creeping up, even if Jaemin’s confidence makes Jisung’s own quiver and fall like a hopeless house of cards, Jisung will  _ not  _ lose to his familiar antics. He will not be fooled.

Making Jisung mentally pump a fist to the air, Jaemin is the first one to break their stare down with a scoff. “I’m making potato pancakes.”

The silent offer is there, Jisung knows.  _ Come and eat with me _ , it clearly says.  _ Come and get your hopes up again,  _ is what it means. Once again, Jisung is not wavered. 

But it sounds tempting. They had dinner before leaving the practice room earlier, but the idea of having potato pancakes—made by Jaemin, at that—makes Jisung’s full stomach churn as if it was excited to be fed again. And Jisung thinks what his stomach feels is valid, because what comes with potato pancakes is another night spent on exchanging stories with Jaemin as they perch by the kitchen counter. 

As usual, Jaemin lingers by the door and holds it open. Jisung pretends to not look at him, but the older boy only waits. 

With a final defeated sigh, Jisung follows him into the kitchen.

And although Jisung is very much aware that he’s giving in to his heart’s dumb and reckless choice, Jaemin’s bright eyes and dazzling smile makes up to it more than it should.

■■■■■■

So, avoiding Jaemin did not work. Jisung will most probably not try that again. Avoiding him only got himself partially exposed, so maybe now the most rational way to stop this game was Jisung telling Jaemin the truth. He’d settled on that, days after the failed attempt of keeping himself from Jaemin. Now that it’s weeks after that, Jisung still hasn't decided on  _ how  _ to do just that.

Oh, but it’s definitely not like this. 

Jisung grips his chopsticks tighter. 

Only two hours ago, the four dorm occupants were left by their manager at the dorm. Then, another hour after that, Renjun and Jeno decided to go shopping together. And now, for the past hour, there’s only Jaemin and Jisung at their dorms.

The past hour had been normal. Jisung hoarded the couch and binged on YouTube videos, while Jaemin kept himself occupied with whatever Jisung didn't know about. They had exchanged a brief conversation then which led to Jaemin cooking their late lunch. It had been stir-fried vegetables and rice, Jisung had eaten peacefully, thanked Jaemin for the good food. 

The last minute though, had been an absolute dilemma. That is, in Jisung’s case. Of course, Jaemin’s enjoying a very much flustered Jisung. He’d only patted Jisung’s hair when the younger announced his last bite. 

It irked Jisung. And he knows it’s not something to be annoyed about—Jaemin did that a lot, and did more than that too—but Jisung had been sensitive for weeks now. Sensitive with everything Jaemin-related. 

Now, Jaemin only stares at him with a fond smile. It makes Jisung’s heart do somersaults inside his chest, then a cartwheel and a double axle, and then it falls to the ground broken. He hates it. Jisung absolutely hates it when Jaemin looks at him like he’s a bright star, as if he’s something amazing to look at, only for him to get an implied rejection after. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” Jisung spits out. It sounded harsher than it should be, but the shock in Jaemin’s face had flushed down the guilt (although Jisung was pretty sure it’ll haunt him later). 

Jaemin blinks. And now he looks worried when he gulps down. “Keep doing what, Sungie?”

“That.” Jisung raises an eyebrow. The fire rises in his throat now from where it burned in his chest, and he finally stands up with a screech from the chair, then slams his utensils on the sink. Jaemin is still clueless behind him, only watching Jisung as the younger miraculously did his own dishes. 

Jisung curses under his breath, scrubbing his bowl more aggressively than necessary. He washes off the bubbles of dishwashing soap and puts them away on the drying rack with a heavy hand he couldn’t control. Jaemin still isn’t speaking up from behind him, only standing there obviously watching Jisung throw a tantrum he has no clue about. And Jisung is ill-tempered at times like these. He had no way to explain this to Jaemin calmly and he won’t even try because how was he supposed to try, anyway? 

Jaemin is just  _ there  _ and maybe he’s not clueless about Jisung’s outburst after all, but he sure acts like it.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Jisung turns around with his fists clenched on his sides. He didn’t even bother drying his hands, they kept dripping cold water onto his shorts and to the floor. 

“But still, tell me.” Jaemin retrieves a towel and begins opening Jisung’s palm, drying it himself. 

His right hand is dry before he pries it away from Jaemin’s grasp. “That!”

Jaemin flinched at the outburst, “Drying your hands?”

And now, Jisung just wants to rip his hair off his head. Possibly, Jaemin’s too. “Yes, hyung. Stop drying my hands for me. Don’t pat my head and stare at me, don’t hug me out of nowhere with that blinding smile of yours. Don’t call me when you’re away and tell me you miss me. Don’t call me pet names or other sweet, couple-y nicknames. Don’t take care of me. Don’t hold my hand, let me get lost in airports or something—I don’t care. Don’t cook for me even though you’re mad at me. Don’t let me camp in your bunk just because you think I’m cute—yeah! Don’t call me cute!”

By the end of his outburst, Jisung is panting, and Jaemin is already closer now, looking up to look at Jisung. There’s that same intense gaze again. It just makes Jisung want to spit words once more. But, thankfully, his tongue was tired as well. If it hadn’t been tired then maybe he would have said things about how Jaemin is melting him with a single look from his damned doe eyes that shine like there’s a million stars in it—

“Jisung-ah.” 

By the call of his name in Jaemin’s voice, Jisung snaps out of it. He turns away. “Don’t make me fall for you if you only see me as a baby.” 

Jaemin audibly gasps. Jisung couldn’t take it anymore, this was unexpected from him too. So with that, he sidesteps Jaemin and dashes to his room. Their shared room. What a brain. 

But still, he climbs up to his bunk with much effort and hides underneath his blanket. And maybe cursed a little because he left his phone on top of the kitchen counter. 

Jisung doesn’t cry. Although he is a big crier, Jisung wills himself not to cry. He’s supposed to be angry now, he had every right to be angry after getting his heart played like that. So he didn’t cry. He couldn’t as well, because embarrassment was still the dominant feeling here after he just went out and confessed to his hyung. His bandmate, among all people he could catch feelings with. Jisung had never been that outright and blunt with his feelings, he always showed this by letting them figure it out themselves. Being like that, outright telling Jaemin that he just fell for him, it’s new to Jisung as well. 

He holds on to his blankets tighter as he curls into himself underneath. Jisung would have kicked and tossed but that would elicit too many sounds and then Jaemin would hear from outside. He didn’t want more attention. Jaemin had been quiet earlier, so Jisung knew what the reply would be. Maybe he should prepare himself for it for real. He had before, but Jaemin had always kicked out all those preparations with a smile. 

The door doesn’t creak when it opens, and the ladder to Jisung’s blanket lump doesn’t squeak when Jaemin climbs up. Jisung only felt his presence when the side of his bed dips, followed by a soft sigh muffled by his ears covered in a blanket. Jisung screws his eyes shut and bites his lip. He has zero intentions in entertaining whatever rejection he had probably prepared for months (after catching an idea of Jisung possibly liking him, it was impossible that he hadn’t thought of a rejection statement, Jisung thinks). 

“Sungie,” Jaemin coaxes the blanket open, “look at me.”

Jisung doesn’t budge. Being hard headed is much easier than facing problems, after all. 

“Park Jisung, you also have to listen to what I have to say.”

The young boy rolls his eyes at that. But Jaemin is relentless, as he successfully tears off the blanket and exposed Jisung’s face. It’s unfair that Jisung is taller but Jaemin is stronger. He should really start working out with Renjun soon. 

Jaemin looks worried as he meets Jisung’s face. His thick eyebrows are drawn together, lips in a pout, and his bluish silver strands fell over his face from how he craned his neck down to stare at Jisung. As much as he’d hate to admit it but—Jisung’s stomach drops. He wished he wouldn’t have dropped the bomb like that on Jaemin. He must have been confused—

But then, Jaemin also had confused him for months. They should be fair.

“You’re unfair, hyung,” Jisung blurts out without thinking. Maybe Donghyuck was right, he should really think before he spots out words. “You know—I know you do. But why do you still continue to treat me like that? You know you have this—this control over me and yet, you—” This should be one of Jisung’s bravest moments; talking about feelings without breaking eye contact. It kind of feels like a milestone for him. 

Jaemin sighs again, deeply this time. “You’re right. I  _ do  _ know,” Jisung frowns at this but he kept going, “but what I do  _ not  _ know is that you think I see you as a child.”

Another question hangs from Jisung’s tongue, but Jaemin shushes him with a thumb on the younger’s lips. Of course Jisung shuts up, he can never function after something like  _ that _ , “You’re not a child anymore, Jisung. Although, by law you still are but—you’re not. You’ve grown well and mature in your age. And I like you for that.” Jisung’s small eyes widen, the only words making it up to his peanut brain being  _ And I like you for that _ . Jaemin looks like he noticed his shock, but chose to ignore it. Instead, Jaemin only ran the pad of his thumb across Jisung’s bottom lip, and presses it softly at the corner of his mouth. The gesture made Jisung blush so hard he wanted to bury himself under the blankets again. But of course, Jaemin doesn’t let him. “I just—I just want to take care of you, Jisung-ah. I didn’t want you to find out without me telling you. And I do trust you, Sungie. I trust you a lot. I’m sorry if you felt doubted and played. It was never my intention, I promise. And, you being two years younger…that doesn’t change the way I see you. Instead, it just makes me want to take care of you more and for the longest time.”

_ Oh _ , maybe Jaemin’s type was someone younger after all.

Jisung looks away. He’s only learning now that after all, his feelings have been reciprocated all this time. He doesn’t really know what to say. What do they do now? Kiss and make up? Become official boyfriends? Jisung didn’t know what step to take, but he knows that he feels happy right now. It’s a different kind of happy, it’s that happiness that you gain after a worrisome procedure, that happiness that makes you sigh in relief. 

“Jisungie,” Jaemin calls again, this time turning the younger’s head to him with both of his hands, “I know you can look anywhere but still focus on me. Now I want you to know that me, too, can look anywhere but I’d still focus on you. So you don’t have to say anything.”

Jisung freezes. His heart had been wilding in his chest since earlier, but now it just hurts with how much it pounds. His face burns upon registering Jaemin’s words, and now he doesn’t know how he’d look at his blue-haired hyung without melting right on the spot and then leave a Jisung-shaped stain on his sheets. 

Jaemin chuckles fondly when Jisung tries to bite back a grin, the blush on the younger’s face making it obvious that he was flustered. From the corner of Jisung’s mouth, Jaemin’s hand went to clutch his hand.

“Let’s take it slow, okay?”

It’s all new to Jisung, and Jaemin knows that. Jisung doesn’t know what to say, but Jaemin has all the words at the tip of his tongue. Jisung has no idea of what they should be now, what step they should take, but Jaemin does. And Jisung trusts him. He would trust him with his life.

So with a shy smile, he nods. 

**Author's Note:**

> pls tell me what you think :0  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/reonjeolmis)


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